The Grim Reaper
by Kirby's Cowgirl
Summary: As Saunders fights for his life after VE Day, the squad breaks up as the men go their separate ways.


Copyright 9/15 Kirby's Cowgirl

 _Fan-Fiction based on TV Show Combat! Copyright Selmur Production, Inc, ABC, Image_

 _Productions etc._

 _Disclaimer: Combat! and its characters do not belong to me, t_ _his WWII story is a piece of fan-fiction_ _and I am not being compensated in any tangible way for this story._

The Grim Reaper

He was alone. He was scared. And he was dying. The damn Krauts had surrendered. He had thought he was going home. How could this have happened? How could any of it have happened?

 _Hanley ._ He'd left the letter with Hanley. He didn't know what had made him sit down and actually write it? He'd meant to, from the beginning. He supposed he'd always known he wouldn't make it thru the War, but he hadn't taken the time to - Well, he'd done the best he could for his family. They'd be taken care of. His sister would be taught things that she needed to know. Things he'd never even THOUGHT of before the War. His Mama would just have to get over it and learn a few things herself. Baby sis could go to college, he thought he had enough insurance for that. His brothers would have to look after their Mother. If they didn't make it home - he should have taken one of those damn promotions they'd tried to foist on him.

He hurt. God, he hurt. The blackness was trying to take over again, and he gave in and let it.

The thump woke him up. He blinked. Saw The Grim Reaper standing there, holding his scythe. His time was up. He gritted his teeth. He wondered if he got to talk, to say anything. He wondered if he was going straight to hell. A kid he'd had in his squad for awhile had scared recruits half to death telling them tales of some "in between" place you went to and sat before a board of angels who decided your fate. What had happened to that kid? Hell, he was probably dead too.

If he went to heaven, he would get to be with Anne Tinsley again. Maybe dying wouldn't be so bad after all. It was just the pain of getting there. There was no doubt that his sweetheart was there. She had been a kind, wonderful woman. But he had committed so many atrocious acts in this War, he probably _was_ going to burn in hell. _With Steiner._ He couldn't suppress the groan that burst forth.

The Reaper picked up his scythe. It was over. He was dead.

He blinked hard. There was nothing there. No one to hear him if he screamed for help. Could he even scream? He didn't think so. He thought he was out in the middle of nowhere. How could this have happened?

.****************************************************************

The letter from McCall had almost done him in. He'd always kept his personal life private, away from his men, certainly unlike Kirby, who shared too much. He hadn't even noticed that Littlejohn was so upset, and it was rare for him to miss anything.

"Sir?" Littlejohn rapped on what would have been the doorframe, on the building Hanley was using for his office.

"Come in, Littlejohn." Hanley said, not looking up from his infernal paperwork.

"I'm sorry sir." Littlejohn stammered. "Sarge got a letter, and he seems kind of upset. I don't know if it's bad news from home, but I thought maybe you -" he stopped, seemed uncertain.

Hanley looked up. The giant was sweating. His face was deathly white. "Littlejohn, sit down. Are you sick?

"No sir. I'm fine." The big man looked like he was going to topple over at any second.

"Littlejohn, SIT DOWN!" Hanley bellowed.

Littlejohn flopped onto the packing crate behind him, and it nearly turned over. "I'm ok, sir, really -"

"No you're not." Hanley interrupted him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm getting _married_." The giant whispered.

"You were engaged when you came over here, weren't you? I know you showed everybody on the base your fiancés picture." It took Hanley several minutes to understand. "Littlejohn had finally realized that he _was_ actually going to get to go home and get married. And he was terrified."

"I love Mavis." Littlejohn choked out. "It's just that - _I'm getting married!"_

"How long have you been engaged?" Hanley asked, trying not to chuckle.

"Well, Mavis told me we were getting married when we were in the first grade. But I asked _her_ when I was seven. I got her a ring and everything. I had to work two days to pay for it. A man likes to do his own askin.'"

"I see." Hanley managed, before he started coughing, hoping Littlejohn wouldn't notice that he was trying _really, really_ hard not to laugh. "I'm sorry, Littlejohn. I can't give you any advice on getting married. Maybe you can talk to Alex the next time she comes to see Kirby." That might keep the infernal woman out of his hair." Just sit here and take it easy, I'll go check on Saunders."

"Everything ok?" Hanley asked, looking worriedly at his Sergeant. It had been a really long hard War, and taken a toll on all of them.

"Got a letter from _Corporal_ McCall." Saunders said, trying to act normally, hoping Hanley wouldn't notice he'd been crying. "Want to read it?"

Hanley sat down next to Saunders carefully. "I'd say he was doin' pretty well if he's already gotten a promotion."

"Yeah." Saunders said gruffly. "He's made some new friends and he goes to the gym every night. He said he still has to use his cane, but he's been told by a pretty lady that he _will_ dance with her at Christmas. Unfortunately, she's his buddy's _very_ pregnant wife."

"Sounds good." Hanley said. "Littlejohn is pretty upset. I think he's finally realized that he actually is going to get to go home and marry Mavis." He knew Saunders well enough to know the man needed something else to focus on right now.

"I'll go talk to him. "Saunders said, scrubbing at his eyes. The poison was flowing thru his body even then. But they didn't know it.

Kirby yawned again, stretched, and slowly got out of bed. It was almost ten am. An unheard of luxury to sleep in like this. It had taken him awhile to learn to sleep inside on a cot. Sometimes Caje would still go out and sleep curled against the wall of the building. He wondered if any of them would ever go back to what they had thought of as "normal" before the War.

He glanced outside and saw Caje, Doc, and Littlejohn propped against the wall, enjoying the sunshine. And then he realized that Saunders was still in his cot.

"You gonna sleep all day, Sarge?" Kirby asked. That normally would have had the man on his feet ready to go. He didn't even stir.

"Sarge?" Kirby knew better than to touch him, he might get his throat slit before Saunders realized who he was. He approached the bed warily, looked at the sweat beading down the man's face and heard the irregular breathing. He crashed into the bed frame as he headed for the door.

"DOC!" he called frantically.

"Whatsa matter, Kirby? You stub your toe again?" the medic slowly blinked his eyes open.

"There's something wrong with the Sarge!"

"I thought he was actually sleepin' for a change -" Doc's voice trailed off as the three of them burst thru the door. He took one look at Saunders and turned to Caje and Littlejohn. "Get Lieutenant Hanley AND a jeep. NOW. Kirby sit down, you're bleeding everywhere."

"Huh?" Kirby asked, realizing his foot hurt like hell and blood _was_ pouring out of his little toe. "I'm ok, Doc, it's nothin'." Seeing that Doc was trying to keep an eye on him and work on Saunders at the same time, he sat down on his bunk, whipped his pillowcase off, turned it inside out, and wrapped it around his toe. "What's wrong with him?"

Caje ran into Lieutenant Hanley's CP, and Littlejohn ran farther down the street where a soldier was lounging in a jeep. He jerked the boy out, dropped him none too gently on the ground, and drove back to their barracks. Doc and Kirby were carrying Saunders outside before he braked to a stop. Caje and Hanley came running behind, along with the soldier he'd stolen the jeep from.

"He stole my jeep!" the soldier yelled at Hanley.

"SHUT UP!" Hanley bellowed, and the private looked at him in shock and backed away a few steps.

"Yes sir." He said, snapping off a salute and standing at attention.

"I don't know what's wrong, Lieutenant. He's really bad off. Can you radio the hospital and tell them we're coming?" Doc said, as Kirby helped him slide Saunders into the back.

"Kirby, what happened to YOU?" Hanley asked.

"Nothin'. I'm ok."

"Kirby get in the damn jeep." Littlejohn said, "Alex will kill me if you lose your foot."

Hanley simply grabbed Kirby's shoulders and Caje caught his legs and carefully arranged them over the folded down windshield. Littlejohn drove off hurriedly, and Hanley ran his hand thru his hair, only then realizing that the young soldier he had yelled at was still standing at rigid attention.

"Come along, private." He said tiredly. "I'll sort out your jeep after I call the hospital."

"Alex!" Littlejohn called from the door.

"Hey, LJ! What are you doin' -" her voice trailed off as she saw the look on his face, and the folder she had in her hand dropped unnoticed to the floor. She choked out, "Is he _dead?"_

Littlejohn shook his head. "You need to come, NOW."

"Corporal Kirby, you are ON DUTY." Major Benson stood up from his desk.

"Go to hell!" Alex told him as she flew out the door. Kirby thought she had resigned her commission so the two of them could be together, but she was just playing S2 games. What he didn't know wasn't going to hurt _her._ She didn't notice that every WAC in the office had stopped working and was glaring at Major Benson. There had been a few complaints about him that had been swept under the rug, and Bull had put her here to keep an eye on him.

"Hey, pretty lady, got a smoke?" a soldier lounging by the hospital entrance asked. The look that Littlejohn shot him had him taking an involuntary step backwards.

Alex thrust a partial pack of cigarettes at him as she ran thru the door. It only took Littlejohn half a second to process that Alex was _working._ She hated cigarettes and he'd certainly never known her to carry any.He didn't know what she'd passed to the Corporal, but it was something in addition to smokes.

"Kirby!" Alex yelled as she burst thru the hospital doors, panicking when she saw all the fresh blood on the floor. Oh, god, not now. After VE Day, The War was over as far as they were concerned. They were just waiting on their orders to go home.

"Alex! This is still a hospital!" One of the nurses scolded. "He'll be alright."

"Al! I'm in here!" Kirby yelled from a curtained off area. "Dammit! I'm alright! Go help the Sarge!" his voice continued.

Alex jerked the curtain open and stared in horror at the huge pool of blood around Kirby's foot.

"OUT!" The Doctor said.

Steeling herself not to faint, she grabbed Kirby's hand and held on tight. There was so damn much blood. Were they going to have to amputate his foot?

"OW!" Kirby protested, trying to yank his foot away.

"Kirby! Be still!" Alex ordered, crying in spite of herself. "What happened? What's wrong with Blondie?"

"Whatever it is, it's bad." Kirby winced at the Doctor's ministrations. "I just stubbed my damn toe, I'm alright."

"Young man, you did a good deal more than stub your toe." One of the nurses said. Then she spared a smile at Alex. "Do you need a chair? It's a lot of blood, but he'll be alright."

Alex pressed Kirby's hand to her face. She had been so terrified she was going to lose him. She could handle him losing his foot - she thought. But life without the little Irishman - no.

"I love you, Al. I'm sorry I'm such a klutz." Kirby grinned at her. " I'm okay. They're gonna fix me. I'd never be able to dance as good as McCall anyhow. You need to take care of Littlejohn."

"Jimmy's hurt too?" she hadn't even thought to ask.

"Naw. He's ok. He drove us here." Kirby gulped. "I think he stole a jeep though. You may need to call in some of your connections."

"I love you." Alex said, kissing him gently. "I'm sorry, I'll get out of your hair." She apologized to the doctor.

Littlejohn was sitting in a chair against the wall looking lost, and she sat down next to him and took his big hand in hers. He had tears streaming down his face. "He can't die." He whispered. "The War's over. He's supposed to be my best man. He _promised._ He can't die."

"What's wrong with him?"

"We thought he was sleepin'." Littlejohn swiped at his eyes." Only he wasn't. Doc doesn't know what's wrong. It's bad. It's real bad." He sighed. "Is Kirby alright?"

"I think so." Alex said slowly.

He put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. Doc found them there two hours later. Alex had her tiny little hands wrapped around Littlejohn's huge paw, and he could tell they'd both been crying. "Kirby's out of surgery." He whispered, seeing Alex had fallen asleep.

"Surgery?"

"He pretty much ripped his little toe off. The Doctor said he couldn't do anything but cut it the rest of the way off." Doc rubbed a kink in his neck. "He should be ok. He may have to use a cane until he learns to walk."

"The Sarge?"

"He's got blood poisoning."

"How?" Littlejohn looked horrified.

"That last little skirmish they got into with the Krauts who didn't care that the War was over," Doc sighed. "He slid and tore up his arm and he wouldn't let me clean it. It had cow manure in it. They don't know if he's gonna make it." He sat down, put his face in his hands.

"ALEX!" the bellow all but shook the walls.

"General Taggart, this is a hospital. Be quiet, or I'll have you thrown out!" one of the nurses said, stepping in front of him. He just gently picked her up and moved her out of his way.

"I'm here, Bull!" Alex said, jumping up from her chair. "It's Kirby that's hurt." She looked at the hospital personnel filing in behind her Uncle in shock. "And Sergeant Saunders needs all the help he can get."

"What happened to Kirby?" Bull asked, putting his hands on her shoulders as his entourage started consulting with the regular hospital Doctors.

"I don't really know. He hurt his foot." Alex looked at Doc confusedly.

"He just got out of surgery. He's gonna be ok."

"Surgery?" Alex thought she was going to collapse, and Bull tightened his hold on her.

"He tripped over the bed frame when he was trying to get help for the Sarge. " Littlejohn said.

"He tore his little toe off." Doc said, "But he's gonna be fine, Alex. He may limp for awhile, but he'll adjust."

"You're sure?"

"They'll probably let you see him once he wakes up." Doc said. "And you know I won't lie to you."

" Thanks." Alex said, sparing him a smile. She could not fall apart right now when the guys were trying so hard to hold onto their own composure. She turned to Bull. "You're watching me. That's the only way you could have gotten here so fast."

"Damn straight." He said. "I almost lost you and Sally and it's not happening again. Somebody will be keeping an eye on you until you get back to the States. Then it's Kirby and Tall Feather's job."

"I love you." She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for coming. Oh, and I think Jimmy is in trouble. He stole a jeep to get them here. Can you—"

"Jimmy?" Bull looked at Littlejohn. "That you, son?"

"Yes sir." Littlejohn said, standing at attention.

"Anybody comes after you, you tell them to take it up with me personally." Bull looked behind him, for his aide. "You make sure _nothing_ happens to this young man."

"Yes sir." The man said automatically. Alex had never heard him say _anything_ else. She wondered if he would have the same response if Bull told him to go jump off a cliff.

"Dammit!" Hanley exploded, then realized Kirby was standing at the tent entrance.

"I'm sorry, sir. Is this a bad time?"

"Kirby, you shouldn't have walked all the way up here!" Hanley got off his packing crate. "Do you need to sit down?" The War was over, you'd think the damn Army could find him a chair somewhere.

"No sir, I'm alright." Kirby was struggling with his crutches, but not going to admit it. "Have you heard anything else about the Sarge?"

Hanley had told ALL of them that the minute he heard ANYTHING he would come and tell them. Kirby was bored and alone. He thought Caje and Littlejohn were on guard duty and Doc had been re-assigned to the hospital.

Hanley ran his hand thru his hair. "Sorry, Kirby, nobody seems to be willing to tell me anything. Sit down." He moved the crate from behind his desk. "I have to get away from this typewriter for awhile."

" I'm real good at fixin' stuff." Kirby offered.

"The ribbon broke. _Again._ " Hanley sighed. He could get all the ammo he wanted now, but the Army couldn't come up with a typewriter ribbon or a damn chair.

Hanley went to the mess tent, got a cup of coffee, and sat down at a back table on yet _another_ packing crate. How had his life gotten to be such a disaster? The woman he loved, and had let go, was in the States, probably still in the hospital. His best friend was dying. His father was making noises about him going back to finish law school when he got home. His mother had picked out two socialites that she thought would make suitable daughter in laws. He did not plan on even going home for a visit.

He supposed, growing up wealthy, that he'd just assumed that poor people acted the same way his family did. He had never known men who loved their wives or fiancés the way Kirby and Littlejohn did. He had never known a huge loving family like Littlejohn. Even Kirby cared about his Mother and his siblings…

He didn't know how long he sat there, before he remembered he had things to do. He would have to try and patch that infernal ribbon back together. As he neared his tent, he heard the steady clackety clack of typewriter keys. Brockmeyer could not possibly be back!

 _Kirby_ was steadily typing away, and Hanley froze in shock.

"I'm almost done, sir." Kirby said. "Do you want me to finish up for you?"

"You can type?" Hanley asked incredulously. Then, "How'd you fix the ribbon?"

"Oh me and Brockmeyer figured out how to make 'em a long time ago." Kirby shrugged. "My sister's a secretary and she bet me I couldn't learn to type, and you know me. I had to prove her wrong."

Hanley picked up his perfectly typed reports, looked at them in amazement. Kirby had even re-typed two of them that he had made so many mistakes on they were nearly illegible.

"You can read my writing?"

"Sir, if you can read _Alex's_ writing, you can read anything."

"Would you like to be my clerk until your foot heals?"

" _Really_? I'd love to have something to do."

"Kirby," Hanley looked at him. "What did you do to get put in the Army?" He knew the little Irishman had committed a crime, and if he hadn't joined up, they'd have put him in jail.

"I stole cars." Kirby grinned at him. "I was damn good at it too. I'd never have got caught if I hadn't got drunk and ran my mouth off."

"Does Alex -"

"Alex knows everything about me, and she loves me anyway. She thinks it's funny." The look on Kirby's face said that he didn't quite understand _that._

Hanley chuckled in spite of himself. William G. Kirby, BAR man, clerk typist, and car thief, extraordinaire.

"Where's Saunders bunk?" Alex asked, stepping thru the door.

Littlejohn pointed, getting to his feet as she dropped to her knees and pulled the Sarge's duffel from under his bed.

"Dammit, Alex! He's not dead yet, and you're not goin' thru his stuff!" Caje grabbed her arm.

"He has a brother in the PTO and I need his address NOW so I can get him sent home! Mrs. Saunders is getting one of her boys back!" she choked on her tears. "Either help me, or get out of my way!"

Littlejohn, set to tackle Caje to get him off Alex, froze. He had no doubt that Alex would shoot Caje. She probably wouldn't kill him, but both of them had tempers that flared like a match.

Tears streaming down his face, Caje knelt down to help her. "I'm sorry. I thought - Never mind."

"You thought he'd written down something that could get Kirby in trouble and I was worried about that." Alex said, digging thru clean uniforms, underwear, and assorted odds and ends until she found a packet of letters. She divided them between the three of them.

"Do you want me to read these?" Littlejohn asked hesitantly. He understood why Alex was doing what she was doing, and it was necessary, but he still felt bad about invading the Sarge's privacy.

"Just look on the return address's first. "She reached over and squeezed his knee without looking up. "If we don't find it, then we'll start reading letters."

"What if it's not here?" Caje asked softly.

"Then I'll go scream at somebody in S2 until they find it for me." She would do it too. Alex was on a mission.

"I think this is it." Caje handed her a letter.

She looked at the address on the envelope. " Thanks, Caje. Can y'all put this back? I need to get on the radio." She hesitated, picked up the copy of _Great Expectations_ that was in Saunders stuff. "Is it ok if I take this? I can read to him when I get off duty."

Caje nodded, and he grabbed her and hugged her as both of them got up. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm so sorry."

"What did the hospital say?" Littlejohn asked.

She put her hand over her mouth and swallowed hard, tears streaming down her face. "They asked me if I thought he would want last rites even though he's not Catholic. A lot of guys asked -" she choked. " Oh, god! I have to go!"

She reached and squeezed Littlejohn's hand and ran out the door, and almost collided with Kirby.

"Is he –" Kirby froze.

"I love you! I have to go!" She kissed him as she went by, jumped in her jeep and roared off in a hail of gravel.

"He's dead, ain't he?" Kirby's voice cracked. "Shouldn't we do _something?"_ he looked at Littlejohn helplessly.

"He's dying, Kirby." Caje choked, swiped at his eyes. "Alex is going to get his brother sent home so his Mom won't be by herself."

Kirby stumbled and Caje and Littlejohn both grabbed him. "You need to stop walking so much or your foot is never going to heal." The giant scolded. "Alex has enough to worry about without you getting an infection." He picked Kirby up like a baby before the Irishman could protest. Caje grabbed his crutches and they took Kirby back to Hanley's CP.

The next night, Hanley drove Caje, Littlejohn, and Kirby to the hospital. Alex was reading to Saunders, and she looked exhausted. She marked her place in the book, and got up, giving all of them a strained smile.

"The nurses don't want all of us in here at once." She whispered. "I'll go out for awhile." She managed to give the wounded man in the bed next to Saunders a _real_ smile as she passed his bed. Kirby, struggling with his crutches, followed her out.

Hanley looked at Saunders, lying there, struggling to breathe. He sighed, sat down, and resumed reading where Alex had left off. It didn't escape his attention that the soldier in the bed next to Saunders appeared to be hanging on every word. Caje and Littlejohn just stood on either side of Saunders bed and looked defeated.

Two days later, as Kirby was doing Hanley's paperwork, the radio crackled to life.

"Kirby?" Alex's hesitant voice nearly made him fall out of the chair. That meant that Saunders was dead. He felt the tears starting to stream down his face. He wanted to throw the radio against the wall.

"Yeah, Honey, I'm here." He gritted his teeth. Protocol be damned.

"They sent Blondie on to the bigger hospital." She choked.

"Well they were going to wait until he was better to do that, weren't they?" Kirby asked, grasping at straws. Saunders had been in the hospital for almost three weeks. He saw Lieutenant Hanley stand up from his desk.

"He's not. He wasn't. I think Bull - Oh, god." And then she started sobbing for real.

"Kirby?" another voice came on the line.

"Yes ma'am?" Kirby said. Lieutenant Palmer. Head nurse in the hospital. She was a witch on wheels and everybody except Alex seemed to be terrified of her.

"Let me speak to Lieutenant Hanley if he's available."

"Yes ma'am." Kirby said, looking at Hanley, "Sir?" he started to get up, but Hanley pushed him firmly back down on the crate.

Hanley listened for a few minutes and then he put the radio down, went and stood at the tent entrance. Kirby knew he was crying too. The Lieutenant cleared his throat hard. "I had planned for Beckley to take over here and us all go to visit Saunders tonight." _One last time_ was left unsaid. He cleared his throat again. "A jeep will be here in about thirty minutes. I'll get Dawkins to help you up to your tent to get cleaned up. Lieutenant Palmer said you needed to come stay with Alex, she's in pretty bad shape. I can spare you until tomorrow -" his voice cracked. "Oh, hell, stay as long as that old battle ax will let you."

"Sir -" Kirby hesitated. "Thank you."

Two weeks later, Kirby looked over at Lieutenant Hanley from his make shift desk. "Sir?" He had to clear his throat, and Hanley saw the tears streaming down his face. Well, they had all known it was coming. "Sir?" Kirby tried again, and then he grinned so wide Hanley thought his face was going to crack. "The Sarge wants to talk to you. He needs a ride."

"What the hell!" Hanley vaulted over his packing crate and grabbed the phone. If this was some idiot thinking they were playing a joke, he would murder them.

"Sorry to be so much trouble, Lieutenant, but they're discharging me tomorrow and I need a ride." Saunders voice came thru the line.

"You're ok? You're _really_ ok?" Hanley didn't even care that his voice cracked.

"I'm weak as a damn kitten and I still have to stay in bed." Saunders hesitated. "If that's too much trouble I can stay here -"

"Hell no, it's no trouble! We want you back!" Hanley grinned at Kirby. Both of them were crying and neither cared. He made arrangements with Saunders for the pick up and put down the phone. Then he hugged Kirby so hard he half way picked him up off his chair. He'd given him the only one they had. Then he cleared his throat hard.

"It's ok, sir. I won't tell." Kirby said and winked at him, which made both of them laugh.

Hanley tried to put on a stern face, gave in, and clapped Kirby on the back. The hell with it. "I'll go tell Caje and Littlejohn." Hanley gestured to Kirby's foot. "You leave a message for Doc at the field hospital."

Saunders grinned at his driver. The damn kid hadn't shut up since he'd gotten in the jeep. Well, since he'd been helped in the jeep. He couldn't remember if he'd ever been this weak before. But it felt so good to be outside in the sun and he felt so _alive._ Caje andLittlejohn were meeting them halfway, and it would be great to see his men again. The kid's chatter lulled him right to sleep.

The next thing he knew, there was a loud crash and then the jeep turned over and rolled and rolled. When he came to, he was pinned underneath.

Sergeant Hall pulled his helmet down over his eyes and tried to go to sleep. Though he'd complained at first, this gig wasn't half bad. Riding around guarding one of the head Army Doctors while he oversaw the dismantling of some of the hospitals and talked to staff. Captain Jack Bridges was a good man and an excellent Doctor, and he was writing some kind of paper, or book, or something. Hall had seen his notes, several hundred pages at least. The man documented _everything._ And he talked to all the people in the hospital, from the Doctors down to the lowest orderlies, and treated them all with respect. The nurses, of course, were on a pedestal -

The jeep slowed to a stop and Hall heard Grady Long, who was in the first jeep, yelling. He cussed under his breath, slammed his helmet down on his head, and grabbed his rifle as he jumped out, gesturing for his driver to stay and cover Bridges, who was riding behind them in an enclosed car. Bridges had three men in the car with him and another jeep behind. He was well protected.

Grady had left the three men who were riding in the first and second jeeps looking at some scattered wreckage, and he was tracing a trail down an embankment. " Another body!" he yelled shortly after he disappeared from Hall's sight.

Hall started after him, only to hear, "SHIT! OH SHIT! I NEED A MEDIC! HELP!" And then Grady started babbling some nonsense that Hall could only half hear and didn't understand. There must be an injured nurse down there, that's all he could figure.

Captain Bridges had defied his guards and was trotting toward him carrying his own bag. Hall slung his rifle over his shoulder, took the Doctor's bag from him, and watched the man slide down the slope. He hoped he didn't break his neck, how in the hell would he explain _that_ to General Taggart?

One of the trucks that was carrying more medical equipment eased up alongside them, and two medics jumped out and slid down the hill after Bridges and Hall.

"Chip, damn you! Don't you dare die!" Grady was sobbing and trying to dig Saunders out from under the jeep with his hands.

"GRADY! STOP!" Hall bellowed. "You're liable to bring the whole thing down on him!"

Bridges started snapping orders at the medics who had followed him down, and one of them ran back up the hill, gesturing for Grady to help him. They were almost instantly back with more equipment and three other soldiers.

"I need you to lift this jeep off him." The Doctor told Hall. "We'll pull him out."

Hall nodded and gestured to his men. They heaved the jeep up while the Doctor supported Saunders head and neck, and the medics dragged him clear. When they got back up the hill with the stretcher, Hall was amazed to see a hospital tent going up in the middle of the road. His men had fanned out, guarding the perimeter.

Chip was whisked in the tent the minute it was stable. Groaning inside, Hall went to get on the radio.

Caje and Littlejohn were late. Kirby knew they could have had something as simple as a flat, or the hospital could have decided not to discharge Saunders at the last minute, but he was worried. He hadn't taken the headphones off in over an hour.

When he picked up the vague transmission, it took him awhile to realize it was Hall calling a report into Battalion. His convoy had stopped because of an accident. He _thought_ he heard Hall say that he needed a _tank_ , and thought that that couldn't be right. And then he heard, " _Sergeant Saunders is in critical condition. His driver's dead -"_ And then he faded out. Kirby could barely hear battalion trying to call him back.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" he frantically changed radio frequencies, trying to find _anything._ Caje was dead. He thought he was going to be sick. "Oh, god!"

"Kirby!" Hanley snapped as he stepped into the tent. "Get hold of yourself. What's wrong?"

"Oh god. Caje's dead." He choked on a sob. "The Sarge is hurt and I don't know what happened to Littlejohn. I can't get this damn radio to work -"

Hanley just picked him up and sat him out of the way. He finally managed to get thru to someone on the radio, and his face was grim when he turned to Kirby. "Saunders was in a roll over accident. He's in surgery now. His driver was killed, along with the men that hit them. Hall hasn't seen Caje or Littlejohn."

Caje had parked the jeep in some shade, and he and Littlejohn had been waiting for over an hour. The giant had gotten out and walked for awhile, and when he came back, he said, "Let's drive up the road a ways. If they had mechanical trouble, the Sarge don't need to be sitting there waiting on some help. They may not have a radio either."

As they finally crested the top of a steep hill, they saw a white hospital tent in the middle of the road and smaller tents around it. Jeeps and trucks were parked around the perimeter.

They looked at each other in dismay as they spotted Grady Long sitting on the ground sobbing. He had a bandage on his arm that looked like he had given blood. A medic and another soldier that they didn't know appeared to be trying to calm him down.

"Grady?" Littlejohn asked, bending down. "What can I do?"

"Chip's in surgery. They don't think he's gonna make it." Grady choked. "I gave all the blood they would let me."

Littlejohn instantly sat down and wrapped his arms around his friend, looking at Caje in bewilderment.

Sergeant Hall stepped outside of a tent, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Grady! Get over here! NOW!"

Littlejohn helped Grady to his feet, and when he stumbled, Caje grabbed his other arm and they more or less carried him to Hall's CP. The medic trotted along behind.

"Talk to your wife." Hall said, thrusting the phone in Grady's hand.

"Honey, what's wrong? Are you sick?" Grady listened for a minute, then said, "WHAT?" And his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped over in a dead faint.

Caje caught him before he hit the ground and Littlejohn and the medic helped him lie Grady down.

Hall grabbed the phone. "Are you alright?" Then he chuckled. "Fainted dead away. No, he's fine. I've got plenty of medics here if he needs one. My wife swears I did the same thing but damn if I remember. You sure you're alright?" He listened for a few minutes, then said, "Congratulations! We needed some good news today." Then evidently the phone was passed to somebody else, because they heard, "Yes sir. Yes sir. Yes sir." And Hall leaned down and read the serial number off of Grady's dog tags. "Yes sir, first thing in the morning as soon as it's light. Yes sir. _Thank you!"_

He put the phone down, looked at Grady who was blinking like he didn't know what had happened. "He's gonna be a daddy." Hall looked at the medic. "You need to get him sorted out and cleaned up. He's going home. Hardship discharge. The Doctor said his wife couldn't go by herself on the ship." The look on his face said that he thought otherwise, but if the Doctor was willing to be kind enough to stick his neck out so Grady could go home with Kathy, he wasn't going to complain about it.

Littlejohn hauled Grady to his feet, but he couldn't stand up.

"I'm sorry." The medic said to Hall. "I can't manage him by myself."

"I'll go." Littlejohn said, looking at Hall for permission. "But what happened to the Sarge?"

"Some drunk deserters hit his jeep." At the sheer rage on Caje's face, he said, "They're already dead. They killed Saunders driver too, poor kid. Chip's got the best surgeon in the army operating on him, I just hope it's enough."

"I'll pray for him." Littlejohn said simply, as he and the medic half carried Grady out of the tent.

"I can give some blood." Caje said.

"What I really need for you to do is pull guard duty tonight." Hall sighed. " I've got plenty of green kids who can give blood. You and Littlejohn are men I can count on not to go to sleep. We've had some problems with deserters from both sides. The Doctor just told me a squad had a run in with them and got shot up pretty bad. Grady's wife fainted after ten hours in surgery. He said he's shipping his nurses _out,_ they've done enough."

"I'd really like to give some blood." Caje said again. "I'll be ok."

" It will have to wait until later, Caje. Battalion is sending me another experienced squad, and a tank. We're pretty much sitting ducks where we are. They should get here sometime tonight. Check and see that the guys have Grady sorted out, you know what a jackass he can be when he gets a mind to. Then you and Littlejohn get some chow and some rest. I'll let Hanley know you're here, he's been looking for you."

Five and a half hours later, Jack Bridges walked tiredly into Hall's CP, and the Sergeant jumped instantly to his feet. "He's alive." The Doctor said. "If he makes it thru the next two days, we'll head him straight to a hospital ship and send him home. I'll go with him and maybe I can keep him alive long enough to say good bye to his family."

"Thank you, sir." Hall said shakily.

Doc pulled the jeep to a stop in front of the mess. "Hang on a minute and I'll help you." He said to Alex, and she grinned at him. It was easier to accept help than to try and climb out of the infernal vehicle in a skirt. She was wearing her uniform, but she did have fatigues and boots, and of course her BAR, in the back.

She and Doc had had to wait until their shifts were over before they could come to Saunders welcome home party, which should have been going on for at least an hour. Doc would drive them back to their quarters at the hospital after it was over. They still wouldn't let her go anywhere without an escort, but as long as it was one of the squad, she really didn't mind. And Doc had found a side road that had beautiful blooming trees and flowers, and even some cows that didn't look too bad. They enjoyed their time together.

John Cook, or "Cookie", as he was called, came out of the tent struggling with a huge coffee urn. His helper was behind him with a tub of cups.

"What's wrong?" Doc asked, as he helped Cookie slide the urn into the back of a truck. "The hospital not release Saunders after all?"

Cookie swiped his face on his sleeve, and Doc realized he'd been crying. "He was in a wreck. He's been in surgery for hours. They don't know if he's gonna make it."

"Oh, god." Alex said, and looked like she was going to burst into tears.

There was a crowd gathered outside the tent that was Hanley's CP, and Doc drove down the hill behind the coffee wagon. He helped Alex out of the jeep, and they pushed thru the soldiers to get inside.

"Kirby!" Alex cried. Then she saw the blood. "Kirby, your foot's bleeding! Doc!"

Sergeant Beckley and Dawkins grabbed Kirby and sat him on the crate that he'd been leaning on, and Alex bent over his foot. Doc came running back in the tent with his rucksack, and Cookie right behind him. Cookie had been a medic before an injury to his arm. Now he was a damn fine cook.

"Kirby, what did you do?" Doc asked.

"I must have bumped it. I'm ok." Kirby said, reaching and squeezing Alex's hand.

"Lieutenant?" Doc looked over at Hanley. "I need to get him to the hospital, and I need some help. He's made a mess here."

"Go." Hanley said, gesturing to the door. "Take Cookie. You need a driver?"

"I can drive." Alex said, following Kirby out the door.

"I'll call and let them know you're coming."

"Sorry guys." Kirby said, swallowing hard. "I thought Caje was dead, and I kind of lost it for a couple minutes. I must have smacked my foot when I was trying to get the radio to work."

Alex shot a worried glance over her shoulder at Doc, who was giving instructions to Cookie, and the grim concentration on their faces made her pick up her speed.

The next morning, Littlejohn, a young recruit, and the medic from the day before were waiting in a jeep for Grady Long, who finally emerged from Hall's CP. He hesitated, then stepped inside the hospital tent. No one had been allowed in to see Saunders, but they didn't throw Grady out, and in a few minutes, he came out and climbed in the passenger seat.

Littlejohn started the jeep and they rode in silence. Grady swiped the tears from his face and said gruffly, "I don't see how he's gonna make it. He's full of tubes and they've got stuff runnin' in him everywhere." Then he choked, swallowed hard, and said, "Hell, we went thru boot together. And Africa. I think he was the best friend I ever had."

"Grady -" Littlejohn started.

"I know." Grady said, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I can't upset Kathy. Hall read me the riot act. That Doctor told him he was to get me there in one piece in no uncertain terms, that's why I've got all of y'all. We're all re-assigned to the hospital unit."

"I didn't get to say good bye." Littlejohn said stricken. He _knew_ he'd see Alex and Kirby at his wedding if he ever got to go home, but Caje had been asleep when they left, and something told him that he would never see the scout again. And he hadn't seen Doc in days.

"I can't find Littlejohn." Caje said, stepping into Hall's tent.

"I sent him with Grady." Hall looked up from his map. "You don't want to know what that Doctor told me he would do to me if I didn't get Grady there in one piece. With all the trouble we've had, Battalion is assigning extra men to guard all the hospitals. Littlejohn will be with the convoy taking the nurses back to the docks."

Caje swallowed hard. He hadn't got to tell the giant good bye. They wouldn't let him in to see Saunders. He hadn't seen Doc in weeks. Alex would look after Kirby, but - Something told him he would never see any of them again.

"Damn you to hell anyway, Hall." Beckley said, stepping into the tent.

"Tell me how you feel, Beck." Hall said, and grinned at him.

Beckley grinned back at his old friend. "For god sakes, don't get yourself shot up. I know your wife wants you home, though I can't imagine why."

"Did you ask her?"

Caje started to leave, realizing they were having a private conversation, but Hall held up his hand for him to stay.

"Yeah." Beckley's grin disappeared, and he got a strange look on his face.

" _Shit! I'm sorry!"_ Hall said, getting up.

"No, I think it's ok. She didn't say NO. She just said that she couldn't bury another husband and for me to ask her again when I got my discharge papers." He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket, and opened it so Hall could see. "And she gave me her Mom _and_ her brother's addresses in case I couldn't find her. And then she kissed me. In front of _everybody!_ So, _maybe -"_ he shrugged.

"Caje," Hall said grinning. "Be the first person to congratulate Beckley on his engagement to Lieutenant Palmer."

The look of sheer and utter horror on his face that he couldn't manage to hide made both of them laugh. He had no idea if this was a joke or not.

"Don't have too much fun shooting all those deserters." Beckley said, looking at Caje. Then he turned back to Hall. "I'm letting you have Dawkins but you make damn sure he gets back. I don't know if he's got a sweetheart, but he's damn sure got a _mama_ who wants him back."

Caje shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He had a feeling that they were letting him see what went on behind the scenes on purpose. Letting him know how much they cared about their men and tried to protect them, even though they joked about it. And they had been in Africa with Saunders too, they had known him a very long time.

The next morning the hospital convoy headed out with Beckley in charge. The man had taken Caje aside and asked him if he wanted to see Saunders, who was still critical, but holding his own. Caje had hesitated, and finally shaken his head. He preferred his last memory of the man to be of him teasing Littlejohn about getting married, back before any of them had realized that he was sick.

Dawkins and Sergeant Hall were the only men he knew in the cobbled together squad that was going after the deserters. Beckley had really wanted to go too. Caje wished that the man was with them. Six of the kids were green as grass, he didn't think they'd seen any combat. The medic looked like he was all of twelve years old. The other three men were seasoned soldiers, and one of them named Franks didn't like it that Hall had designated Caje "point man." He'd made his displeasure obvious, but Caje just ignored him and did his job, as always. Unknown to him, Dawkins had let Franks know in no uncertain terms that Caje was the _front guard,_ and he was the _rear_ , and if Franks didn't like it, he should take it up with Sergeant Hall, or go back to camp.

Two weeks later, the scout was watching the deserter's camp. "How many, Caje?" Hall asked, as he crawled up beside him.

"Five." Caje kept scanning the ground below them. "They can't –" he glanced at Hall and shook his head.

"Be so stupid?" Hall finished for him. "Yeah, Caje, let's hope they are."

"They didn't think anyone would come after them?" Caje asked.

They heard someone else crawling up with them, and Hall looked at Franks. "I told you to stay back."

"What are we waitin' on?" Franks demanded.

"Caje keep watch." Hall said, sliding back, the glare he sent Franks making the man do the same.

As soon as they were back to the other men, Hall said, "Anybody that disobeys another order from me will be in the brig or worse. Is that clear?"

Dawkins grinned and spat a stream of tobacco, narrowly missing Franks boot. Franks shot him a murderous look, and the BAR man just shrugged.

"Dawkins, go keep watch with Caje." Hall said. "Franks, you guard the rear."

Several minutes later, Dawkins crawled back and said to Hall, "I swear four of 'em are passed out. And I think the last one is supposed to be on guard, but he's drinkin' too."

"They _didn't_ think anybody would come after them." Hall said, and signaled for them to move out.

The guard tried to raise his rifle, dropped his whiskey bottle in the process, and sat down and started crying. One of the soldiers jumped up and took aim and Caje shot him in the arm. The other three _were_ out cold.

"He's a Kraut." Dawkins said, shoving one of the soldiers with a booted foot.

"That's interesting." Hall said, taking in the man's mismatched uniform. "Wonder if some of these other boys are too?"

The prisoners were searched and tied up. Hall radioed in that they were captured and requested a truck, since they were too drunk to walk, but it appeared that none was available.

Franks was supposed to be on guard duty with one of the "greenies" when Caje went to relieve him. Hall never put two of the inexperienced soldiers on any duty together. Caje didn't think the man slept himself at all. He'd told Caje and Dawkins when they rotated shifts, but no one else.

Caje heard the scuffling, got one shot off, and then they were on him. He felt the knife in his chest and then his rifle was wrenched away, and then nothing. Then the booming of the BAR. That was good. Kirby would - but it wasn't the little Irishman, or even Grady shooting.

It wasn't Doc who ripped his shirt open and tried to stop the bleeding. Doc had gentle hands and he always talked and told you what he was doing. And that he knew he was hurting you and that he was sorry. And a couple of times, when he had been hurt severely, it had been, "Damn! I am sick and tired of having to put you back together!" And one of those times, Kirby had told him that Doc had sat outside the hospital with his bible in his hand and cried until someone came to tell them Caje would be ok.

"Caje, stop!" he thought it was Hall's voice, but he just knew he was fighting for his life. "Easy." The voice soothed. "Just take it easy. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore." And then he felt a needle, and then nothing at all.

The dog over at the Lewis's house was having a fit. Joe swallowed hard. He'd been gone a long time. Maybe the Lewis's didn't live there anymore. Maybe his Mom didn't keep the spare key -

"Can I help you?" the voice behind him made him jump. Pretty little Lynn Lewis, holding a toddler in her arms. The kid had gotten married and _had a baby_ while he was gone. He felt like somebody had sucker punched him. Why in the _hell_ hadn't he told her he loved her before he left and asked her to wait for him?

"Joey?" she let out a long breath. "Oh, god, I thought -" the look on his face stopped her. "Which one?" she whispered.

"Chip's in real bad shape." He swallowed hard, turned and reached behind the huge flowerpot his Mom had kept on the porch since they were kids. He needed a few seconds to get his composure back. He _could not_ break down and cry in front of Lynn. " I guess Ma doesn't keep the spare key here anymore? They sent me ahead to get her and Louise. Do you know what time she gets home from the plant? We've got to get the five o'clock train and I've got to get them some clothes packed -" he stopped. "It's not your problem."

"Let me get the key from Mom. You need to come speak to Shep before he comes over the fence. We have some new neighbors and he has to stay at our place in the fence or on a leash now."

"WHAT?" Joey asked incredulously.

"She doesn't like dogs." Lynne said, as they briskly walked across the street.

"Joey?" Mrs. Lewis was standing on their porch, holding another baby. Another little girl who looked to be about three was holding onto her leg. Shep was going crazy, hurling himself at the wire.

"Excuse me." Joey said, scaling the fence and bending down to his dog, who started washing his face with sheer joy, his entire body wagging. "Gosh, it's good to see you!"

"He can come in." Lynne said, holding the kitchen door open. "He's a lot cleaner and better behaved than most of the kids Mom and I keep. Mom's calling Dad and telling him to come straight home from the plant and not to let your Mom pull a double. Do you want some coffee?"

"Thanks, but I better get to packing clothes." Joey said, feeling like a fool. He did not want to go pawing thru his Mom and sister's clothes. He knew he'd never find the right things - But he needed to get away from Lynne. He felt like he was going to throw up. If he lost Chip _and_ Lynne - he didn't know if he could handle that.

"Lynne can pack for you." Mrs. Lewis said. "Go get Mr. Ellis and just take the coffee pot to your house."

Joey looked at her stupidly. "Why do I need Mr. Ellis?"

"Sweetheart, you're a _man_ now. You and Lynne require a chaperone."

"But she's married." Joey said, and choked, tears starting in spite of himself.

Lynne squeezed his arm gently before she placed the toddler in a playpen. "This is Freddie Lockhart's daughter. Well, she's Freddie James now."

"Shit! She's younger than Louise!"

Lynne and her Mom both laughed at him, and he turned a furious red. "I'm sorry. Mama is gonna kill me. I haven't seen any ladies in - I don't know when." He swallowed hard. "You're not - you're not married, Lynne?"

She shook her head, giving him a sad smile.

"Dunderhead." Mrs. Lewis said, which was what his Mom called _all_ her sons, _even_ Chip, when they did things she couldn't comprehend. She reached and hugged him. "We'll sort everything out once Chip's better."

"You think you can polish shoes while I pack?' Lynn asked. "We haven't been going to church lately. The plant runs seven days a week."

"Sure, I can polish shoes." Joey said. He looked at Mrs. Lewis. "You need me to do something around here? I'll be glad to help. I just don't know anything about ladies clothes."

"These kids are going down for their nap, and I'm going to have a snack and take one myself." Mrs. Lewis shooed them out the door.

"Okay, I'll get Mr. Ellis." Joey said. "I really appreciate the help." As he started to leave, Lynne thrust a leash in his hand. "Oh hell no." Joey said, then flushed. "I'm sorry. Mama _is_ gonna kill me."

Lynne and her Mom both grinned at him, and he went out the door with Shep at heel by his side.

He passed by two houses on the way to Mr. Ellis's, and a woman came barreling out of one. "That dog has to be on a leash!" she yelled. "I will call the constable right now!"

"You _do_ that." Joey said pleasantly. "I thought my brothers and I were off fighting the Nazis. I didn't know one had moved into the neighborhood. This dog -" he reached and petted Shep. "Has lived in this neighborhood for years. He has never offered to bite anybody. He has never had to be on a leash." The woman backed away from him. "Oh," Joey continued, "I'm generally considered the _nice_ brother. Wait until the others get home."

He thought he heard Lynne giggling as she unlocked the door to the Saunders house and carried the coffeepot inside. By the time Mr. Ellis pulled his car in the driveway, the percolator was bubbling on the stove, and Lynne had spread newspaper on the table and set out a can of polish. She came back with two pairs of his Mom's shoes in her hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Ellis." She said, bending to kiss his cheek. "We really appreciate it."

The old man shrugged, even as he grinned. "Joey, you need to get the suitcases out of the attic and take them outside and sweep them off."

"Yes sir." Joey said, standing up and feeling like an idiot. He should have known to do that without being reminded. Mr. Ellis winked at him as he picked up a rag and started cleaning Mrs. Saunders shoes. Lynn went upstairs to select clothing to pack.

"Mind you check and make sure there aren't any spiders inside." Mr. Ellis said when Joey came back down with two suitcases and a train case.

"Yes sir." Joey said as he picked up the broom. Mr. Ellis was sort of the unofficial grandfather of the neighborhood and he'd always bossed all the kids. Shep whined as he saw Joey heading out with the cases. "I'm not leaving yet, boy." Joey leaned and patted his head. "You stay with Mr. Ellis. No sense in me getting dirt and cobwebs on you."

Joey carried the clean, de-spidered suitcases upstairs for Lynne, came back down and swept the floor, earning him an approving nod from Mr. Ellis. At least the old man hadn't had to tell him to do _that_. He washed his hands and poured the two of them a cup of coffee. Then he saw the money on the table.

"You get your sister and Lynn some shoes while you're in Washington." At Joey's confused look, he continued, "Louise doesn't have any. Lynne gave her hers to wear. Said she doesn't need anything but Keds to chase kids in anyway, but her Keds are getting' mighty worn too."

"I have money." Joey said, starting to push it back across the table.

"Those girls have been good as gold and not complained about rationing and they've worked hard to help everybody in the neighborhood. Least I can do is buy them some shoes. None to be had here. Of course," the old man's eyes twinkled, "If you wanted to chip in and get them two pairs each, that'd be a really good thing."

"I can do that." Joey said, understanding. He had _no_ idea how much women's shoes cost. He put the money in his wallet.

"Louise came home crying because the teacher made a fuss about her having holes in her shoes and she sent a nasty note for your Mom. Time Mrs. Lewis and I, _and_ the principal got thru with her, she was lucky to have her job. Don't tell your Mama, she works too hard and it would just upset her."

"Thank you for looking after them." Joey said, and meant it. He had known his family worried about him, but he had had no idea what they'd had to put up with rationing and all the boys gone.

"Least I can do." The old man looked at him. "Chip must be hurt pretty bad. "

"I don't really know." Joey's voice broke. "They said he should be at Walter Reed by the time we get there. Somebody really pulled some strings."

Mr. Ellis nodded, kept briskly polishing shoes. He'd finished a pair before Joey had finished one shoe. "Lots of eligible young men will be coming home soon, I expect."

"Huh?"

"Lynne Lewis is quite a catch." The old man sipped his coffee. "Sweet girl. Best cook in town. Says it's only because her Mom and your Mom taught her." He looked at Joey sternly. "We don't want her winding up with the wrong man, do we?"

"I should have asked her to wait for me." Joey swallowed hard, swiped at the tears in his eyes. "Hell, I wanted to marry her before I left. But Chip told me not to. That I might get killed and I couldn't do that to her." He had no idea that Lynn had tiptoed back down the stairs and was listening, tears streaming down her face.

"Dunderheads." Mr. Ellis said. "Your mama was so mad at you she wanted to pinch your head off. And Lynn was so upset when you left we were all afraid she was going to do something stupid and marry one of those other young men who _did_ ask her."

"Huh?" Joey looked horrified. _Lynn was his!_

"You sort this out when you bring Chip home, and I mean it." Then Mr. Ellis grinned at him. "Or I might just tan your backside."

"I'm going to have to go back." Joey said. "We ain't whupped the Japs yet. And Chip was right - I can't leave Lynn a widow. No matter how much I -"

Louise came barreling in the door then and froze. "Joooeeey?" It was a long question and she was sobbing when she hurled herself in his lap and nearly turned the chair over. "Are you hurt?"

Joey held her for a minute, and then he said quietly. " No pumpkin, I'm fine. It's Chip that's hurt. He's in real bad shape and they sent me to get you and Mama. I need you to pull yourself together and go and help Lynn pack your clothes. Can you do that for me? Please?"

"Get those shoes off so Joey and I can polish them." Mr. Ellis said sternly. "Then you check with Lynn on the packing and run jump in the shower. Your mama will be worried that you don't look presentable and she's barely going to have time to change her clothes before we have to head to the train station."

"Ok, Mr. Ellis." Louise stopped and hugged him, and then she leaned down and hugged Shep, who thumped his tail.

Joey only vaguely realized that Lynn and Louise had both slipped out the door when he heard a car pull in the drive. They'd abandoned him to deal with his Mother alone -

"Mama-" he started, as she stepped in the door. "Mama, Chip's hurt and we have to -"

"Joey!" he thought she was going to faint, and she grabbed him and hugged him tight.

Then Mrs. Lewis burst thru the door and grabbed her arm, and Joey gave a sigh of relief. The girls had gone to watch the kids so Mrs. Lewis could spend a few minutes with his Mother. His Mom looked exhausted, and she didn't protest when Mrs. Lewis hustled her upstairs, talking quietly to her the whole time.

"You put the cases in my car, Joey." Mr. Ellis said. "You can drive us all to the station, and Lynn can drive me back home. My eyes aren't what they used to be."

"Yes sir." Joey said, offering his hand to Mr. Lewis, who had come in with his Mother. "You have no idea how much I appreciate all the help." The man seemed to have aged twenty years since he'd been gone, and he sat down at the table and tried to pack his pipe with shaking hands. Joey noticed that Mr. Ellis took it and did it for him as he went outside. There was no way he could ask for Lynne's hand now. Heck, he hadn't even told her how he felt. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. It was all one big mess.

When Chip woke up, there was a frail, older lady sleeping in the chair next to his bed. A pretty young woman and a man that he thought he knew were looking out the window and talking quietly. It exhausted him to look at them.

The next time he opened his eyes, the older lady said, "Chip! Chip, honey, are you awake?"

"Mom?" he asked, confused. "Did you come to France?"

"No sweetie, you're back in the States at Walter Reed." She patted his hand, tears streaming.

"Hey Chip." The young woman said, and he wondered who she was. "You do remember me? The Brat?"

"Louise?" he struggled to say. "You're twelve."

"Chip, I'm sixteen." She looked like she was going to start bawling.

The man pushed her back gently and touched Chip's arm. "You gave us quite a scare, old man."

"Joey?" Saunders looked at his family in dazed confusion.

"Okay, visiting times over." He heard a voice say. Then, " _Blondie!_ You're awake!" And a beautiful red headed nurse that he thought he knew, leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Patty Glenn." She said, when she realized he didn't know who she was. "You saved my life. My thorn in your side sister is married to your BAR man. I'm marrying your medic, but I haven't told him yet."

"Your sister is married to Grady Long?"

"My sister _Alex_ is married to Bill Kirby." She reached and fluffed up his pillow.

"What happened to Grady?" he demanded frantically.

"Shh." She pushed him back in the bed gently. "I don't know, but I bet I can find out. You lie still and don't cause any trouble."

"Kirby is a pain in the ass - he is not _my_ BAR man -"

"Chip! Don't speak to this young lady that way!" his Mother chided.

"It's alright, ma'am. I've heard a lot worse."

"Oh, Chip, you've got a scar on your face too. How did you get that?" she looked horrified. "Somebody hit you!" Tears were starting to stream down her face.

"That's alright." Patty said cheerfully, "I shot him." And winked at Saunders.

"Oh, you silly girl!" But his Mom smiled and stopped crying.

"Louise, why don't you take Mom to get a cup of coffee?" Joey said, in a tone that meant it wasn't a request. Once they'd left, he sat down and whispered to Chip, "She wasn't kidding, was she?"

"She saved my life too. She and Alex and Kirby -" he stopped, looked confused. "I gave the BAR to the biggest whining pain in the ass in the world. And he did good." He reached a trembling hand to his brother. "What the hell happened to Grady? Oh god, he must be dead!"

"Blondie, we have friends in S2. We can find out anything. Don't upset yourself." Patty gave him a shot.

"I didn't want that." He whispered.

"I have to change your bandage, and believe me, you'll be glad you had it by the time I'm finished."

"How long has he been in here?" Joey asked.

Patty picked up the chart and flipped back thru pages and pages. "Almost three months." She said finally.

"That long!"

"He was admitted with blood poisoning. He managed to beat that, and then he was in a roll over truck accident." She looked at Saunders, so weak and frail. "Either of them would have killed a lesser man."

"Will he -?"

"I think he'll be alright. He's just been here too long and had too many drugs. He's a good man, and he really needs his friends right now. But visiting hours _are_ over, and I'm sorry, you'll have to leave."

The next time that Saunders opened his eyes, a WAC was laying a piece of paper on the little table by his bed. He thought he knew her, but he was so damn confused. Her left arm was in a sling and she looked exhausted and unwell, like she needed to still be in bed.

"I'm sorry, Blondie. I didn't mean to wake you up." She tried to smile at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I've got Grady's address here for you, he's already gone home. He married a nurse named Kathy Barnhardt. You remember her, don't you? They're already expecting and they both got to go early. Patty said you were pretty upset about him. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Sally?" he tried to sit up, and realized that he couldn't. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

"Just take it easy, Blondie. You've been here awhile, it's gonna take some time."

"What happened to me?"

"From what I hear you had quite a time of it. You got blood poisoning because you wouldn't let Doc clean a wound. Then you were in a roll over truck accident."

"The guys?" Saunders asked frantically.

"None of them were with you. You just take it easy." She patted his shoulder.

"I don't remember –" he stopped, looked at her confusedly. "How long have I been in here?"

"Awhile." Patty said, stepping up to the bed. "But you're gonna be just fine. I hear you promised to be Littlejohn's best man, and he's been beside himself thinking he's going to have to get _Kirby_ to do it because Mavis will murder him if he puts their wedding off any longer."

"Take care of yourself, Blondie." Sally said. Joey started in just as she left, and at the look he got from Chip, he turned and followed her.

"Let me walk you out, ma'am." Joey said pleasantly, reaching and punching the elevator and gently taking her arm at the same time.

"You're just as take charge obnoxious as he is." She said, and a faint trace of a smile crossed her face before it was gone.

"I take it you're not a fan of my brother." Joey said, grinning at her in spite of himself. He had never met a woman who _didn't_ like Chip. He'd like to take her out and buy her a beer and spend the afternoon talking to her. But she looked like somebody needed to take her home and put her to bed and make her some chicken soup. He could tell that she must be in a lot of pain from the way she was holding herself, but she'd still come to check on Chip.

"Blondie saved my life." She said as the elevator opened.

"And you wish he hadn't."

She looked at him surprised, as the elevator man closed the doors and they started down. "Sometimes." It was just a whisper.

"I bet you're not supposed to be out of bed."

"If I have to spend another day in bed I'm going to scream. I had to go back to work."

Joey understood the sentiment behind the words, but he had never thought a woman might feel the same way. "Bed's no fun when you're by yourself."

She laughed. He liked the sound. In War time, the two of them might have gotten a bottle of whiskey and had a good old time. But now - "I'm sorry." He said, shaking his head. "I've forgotten how to act around ladies."

"I'm not a lady." Sally said, and the pain in her voice made him tighten his hold on her arm.

"Well if you'd like to tell me who insinuated otherwise, I'll be glad to go and have a word with him." _And kick his ass._

"It doesn't matter, but thank you."

He had a feeling that it mattered, far, far _too much._ She needed a champion, and maybe he could help her for the few days he was here. He'd ask Chip if he knew what had happened.

"I don't suppose you could tell me where I could find a women's shoe store?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sally grinned at him and told him where he could find what he wanted. As they walked out in the sunshine to her waiting car, the driver opened her door for her.

"You make sure you walk her _inside._ " Joey told the kid. And when he started to protest, "I don't care _what_ she told you. You walk this lady inside. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir." The kid stammered, as he went around to start the car.

"I'll be glad to put my fist in whoever hurt your feelings, face." Joey said quietly to Sally.

"He's still in Germany." She almost managed to smile. "And he's going to stay there unless I send him someplace equally unpleasant."

"Chip said Africa is pretty miserable."

She actually grinned at him that time. "Oh, I'll keep that in mind. Please look after your brother. He's hard headed as hell but he's a good man, and Alex will kill me if anything else happens to him."

"I'm going to have to go back -"

"No you're not. You're assigned stateside now."

Joey looked at her in shock. "Somebody pulled some strings, big time. What did Chip do to rate all this?"

"Well I would imagine it has something to do with the fact that he saved General Taggart's nieces from the Krauts, and kept Alex's squirrely little husband alive all thru the War." She looked at him sternly. "Don't you be pestering him with things that aren't even important. Ask Patty if you really want to know."

"Yes ma'am." He saluted her, and stood staring at the car after it drove off.

His Mom had met some other ladies who had sons in the hospital and she was chatting in the hall with one of them. "Chip's asleep again." She said, clearly disappointed. "I guess he's trying to catch up on all the rest he missed since he enlisted."

"I think I'll take Louise to run an errand if that's alright." At her confused look, "I want to buy something for Lynn."

She beamed at him, and he knew she'd misunderstood. There was no way he was going to tell her that he was only going to buy shoes, and not a ring.

He collected Louise from Chip's room, looking worriedly at his brother.

"Patty said that he really is better." Louise said, after the elevator doors had closed behind them. "I asked her if she was just telling me that because I'm a kid and she said no. Where are we going?"

"To get you some shoes." Joey said, as he hailed a cab.

"I need to get _Lynn_ some shoes." Louise said, and at the look on his face, "Mr. Ellis told you."

"You need to tell me what else I need to straighten out when we get home." Joey said, taking her arm as they got out of the cab at the shoe store.

He was surprised when Louise selected two pairs of practical flats. The saleslady went to box them up and his sister went back to browsing.

"How much are these?" Louise asked, coming back to the register with a pair of elegant heels.

"Louise, you _can not_ have those shoes." Joey said, trying to sound stern like Mr. Ellise. "Mama would kill me."

"They're for Lynn. I thought you could take her dancing before you have to go back -"

The saleslady named a price that made Joey do a double take, and Louise gave him a sad smile. "I don't have enough money."

"Tell the lady what size." Joey said. "And do you know where we can get some Keds?"

"What color?" the lady asked, not missing a beat.

"Lynn likes red." Louise said. "Blue for me if you have them." When the saleslady went to the backroom, she handed Joey some cash. "Thank you." She looked like she was going to start crying.

"We should get something for Lynn's Mom -" Joey looked at her confused. "Do you know what size shoes she wears?"

"Mrs. Lewis always says that all she wants is a bubble bath and a box of good chocolates and a nap."

"Okay, but I don't know what we're going to do about the nap."

"Lynn and I can watch the kids when we get back home. And I guess we could get Mr. Ellis and her Dad some pipe tobacco."

"Could you ship this?" Joey asked the saleslady. "I think we want to put a few more items in with the shoes, if that's ok."

At the salesladies raised eyebrow, Louise said, "You don't have pipe tobacco."

"Three doors down on the right."

"Bubble bath and chocolate?" Joey asked hopefully.

"Actually -" she pointed to a back corner that he hadn't noticed.

Joey nodded to Louise when she shot him an inquiring look. "I'll go get that tobacco while Louise finishes up." He said.

"Okay, Chip," Joey said after his Mom and Louise had departed for the cafeteria with the other ladies. "Tell me about that woman."

Just a trace of a grin crossed his brother's face. "Sally?"

"If that's who you had me walk to the elevator."

"She's a good woman. She just -" he sighed tiredly. "She just did some things she shouldn't have."

"We all did things in the War that we'd like to forget." Joey said.

"But they don't forgive women for doing them."

"Ouch." Joey said, suddenly understanding.

"I should have married her." Saunders said sleepily.

"She doesn't like you!" Joey protested.

"I don't like her either. But she's a good woman -" his brother was drifting off and Joey knew that that was the only reason that he was talking like he was.

"Who hurt her?"

"Hanley." There was a flash of raw anger across his face.

"Because of her arm, or the other?"

"Both, I think. What happened to her, it wasn't right -" And Chip faded off to sleep.

Joey tried to digest the fact that his good, dutiful brother was willing to marry a woman he didn't like, and take care of her, because bad things had happened to her in the War, and he couldn't get up the nerve to ask the woman he _loved._

He sighed, picked up the copy of _Great Expectations_ that they'd all been reading to Chip. After he read the last page aloud, he sat for a moment before he went back to the beginning and started reading again.

"Why does everybody keep reading me that damn book?"

"I thought you were asleep. If you don't like it, we won't read anymore."

"Was trying to help Louise with her homework."

"Chip, you were in Germany! Nobody expected -" Joey stopped. Chip _was_ asleep now. He'd always let his older brother take the lead, and be the good guy who fixed things. It was time for a change.

About thirty minutes later, Joey heard crying in the hall and he got up. Louise came barreling in the door. "Mrs. Prescott's son _died."_ She looked like she was going to fall apart.

"Louise." Joey said, catching her arm. He wasn't sure which lady was Mrs. Prescott, but he remembered his Mom saying that one of the women had a son who was in really bad shape.

"It's not fair." She whispered, tears starting.

"Most things aren't." Joey said, and was surprised at himself when it came out.

One of the aides brought in Chip's lunch tray, and sat it on the table by his bed, closing the door as she left. "I can feed Chip if he wakes up." Louise offered. "You need to get yourself something to eat."

"Ok." Joey agreed. A priest was in the hall now, with the ladies. He caught his Mom's eye, and she shook her head at him. He was almost running as he headed down the stairs.

Lynn picked up the phone on the first ring, and Joey waited for the operator to go thru her spiel and connect them. "Lynne, it's Joey." He said, and panicked.

"Did Chip take a turn for the worse?" he heard her exclamation of dismay.

"No, no, he's about the same." Joey said, "I - I -"

"What's wrong?"

"I promise when I get home that I will do this right. I'll get down on my knees and ask your Dad and all that, but please tell me that you'll marry me."

She laughed." Oh, Joey, I didn't think you were ever going to ask. You do know I love you, right?"

"You do?" Joey asked. He knew that she liked him and they'd known each other forever, but - "You will wait for me, then?"

"Can we get married before you go back overseas?"

"I've been told that I am assigned stateside now. Chip did _something_. You know how he is, we'll never know what, unless I can pry it out of somebody else. Somebody has been pulling some major strings. We've been staying at a General's house just a couple blocks from the hospital."

"That sounds exciting."

"It's terrible actually." Joey swallowed hard. "I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I think I want to stay in the Army, I make good money." He stopped. "But we would have to move around. I can do something else -"

"Joey, whatever makes you happy is fine with me." He couldn't see her dancing around the kitchen and jumping up and down, but her Mom could, and she was crying.

Saunders didn't know what time it was when he woke up. He dimly remembered Louise feeding him some cherry jello, that had tasted really good, but he didn't know if that meal had been lunch or dinner. It was dark, just a little light came in his room from the hallway.

Making up his mind, he struggled to sit up. He'd been in this _damn_ bed too long. He was dripping sweat by the time he got upright, and he had to stop and rest. The bed rail made a loud _clank_ as he dropped it, but no one came to investigate. The nurses must be on rounds at the other end of the hall. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and thought he was going to pass out. Bright lights danced behind his eyes and he caught hold of the IV pole to hold himself upright. _He was not going to die in that damn bed!_ If he fell and started himself bleeding again, well, that was that.

It took him four tries, but he finally managed to stand up. The bright lights had turned into a barrage, and his head was pounding so hard he knew he was going to throw up. He was walking to the far end of the room and back, or he was going to die trying. Four steps later, he knew he wasn't going to make it. He didn't think he could make it back to the bed.

" _What in the hell do you think you're doing?"_ Patty Glenn demanded as she switched on the light.

Sweat pouring off him, gasping for breath, he gritted out, "I am not going to die in that damn bed."

"Well you may die in the middle of the floor if you don't get your ass back in it right now!" Patty snapped. "I did not save your life for you to try and kill yourself!"

"I can't." he gritted out as he tried to turn, and she was instantly at his side and taking charge. As soon as she had him in the bed, she grabbed a bedpan, and he threw up until he thought he was going to die.

"Here." She said, offering him a glass of water. When he tried to refuse, "Rinse your mouth out and spit. NOW."

He did what she told him, and then gasped out, "Sorry." And he was. He had _no_ idea he was so damn weak, and he was embarrassed.

She whipped his gown up and checked his incision. "DO NOT MOVE." She warned him before she left the room. In a few minutes she was back, and she helped him sip some ginger ale that he thought was nectar from the gods before she sponged his face off.

"I'm sorry." He choked out again. " And I'm sorry you had to kill that man -"

"Blondie." She tipped his chin up so that his eyes met hers. "I may not be as tough as my sister or my cousin, but I had the same training they did. The first time I qualified expert with a rifle, they said the instructor let me cheat because I was a pretty girl. So I shot in front of the entire base the next time. That man would have killed all of us. I'm not the least bit sorry I shot him. I'd do it again." *

"You can protect Doc." He said, trying to grin at her.

"Dwayne can protect himself. Alex got him a pistol and he promised me he would use it." At his shocked expression, she said, "It's alright for him to defend himself -"

"He wouldn't take one when I tried."

"You're not _me."_ Patty said softly.

"Things change." Saunders said. "Life is more important now."

"Yeah," Patty agreed. "It is. And don't you get out of this bed again. Jack said you were his crowning achievement and he could never do a finer piece of surgery. It would kill him if you died because you did something stupid after he put so much effort into saving you."

"Jack Bridges?" Saunders asked, and at her nod, "He put you back together too, didn't he? And he saved McCall's leg."

"And he said he's had enough. He's gone fishing, and he's finally going to write his book." She grinned, "I give him, oh three months, before he's back at the hospital."

"I won't try and get up again." Saunders said. "I didn't get to thank Bridges."

"You could write him a note." Patty suggested. "He was really impressed that you thanked him for helping McCall."

"I'll need his address."

"I'll get it for you."

The next morning when the Doctor made rounds, he got a stern talking to, and that afternoon, Joey and an orderly helped him take a few tentative steps around the room. By the end of the week, Saunders could walk to the window unaided, though he did require a little help getting back to the bed.

And two weeks later, they sent him home to Illinois to finish recuperating.

"You're going home." Lieutenant Palmer told Travers, the soldier in the bed next to Kirby, and winked at Alex.

"Al, I want you to go home too." Kirby said suddenly. "The War may be over, but it's still not safe. I just don't want you here. I don't know when they'll let me out –" he lowered his voice. "It was five years in the Army or twenty at hard labor in the pen. _"_ He tried to grin at her.

" _All_ of you are going home." Lieutenant Palmer said, waving a sheet of paper at him, before she handed it to Alex. "And maybe if I get all these damn patients out of here, I can go myself. I've got things to do."

"We're goin' home, Kirbs." Alex grinned at him. "We're really goin'!" She swiped at her eyes.

"I don't understand." Kirby whispered.

Alex waited until Lieutenant Palmer had moved on to other patients before she said, "Bull either bribed or threatened somebody, and you know what? I just _don't_ care. We _deserve_ to go home. So many good people -" her voice broke.

"I know, honey. I know." Kirby squeezed her hand, and grinned at her. "Hard labor, here I come."

"What?"

"You don't think I'm gonna sit on my butt while you cowgirl around, do you? I can shovel horse shit, and I asked Littlejohn how to fix fences, it can't be that hard. And I guess Ruthie can teach me how to milk a damn cow -"

"My grandparents had a dairy farm." Travers said wistfully.

"I'm sure your family will be glad to have you home." Alex smiled at him.

"I don't have any left. Family, that is." He looked like he was going to start crying.

"Would you like a job?" Alex asked him, ignoring the look and hand squeeze she got from Kirby. She'd already hired John Cook.

"I don't know if I'll be able to walk right."

"Mr. Travers, would you like a job?" Alex repeated. "There are three iron clad rules on our ranch. You don't abuse livestock and you don't drink. And the last one I shouldn't even have to say, but since I've been over here, I've learned a few things the hard way. You treat all women with respect."

"And you work for Alex, not me." Kirby said. The guy seemed nice enough. He wondered if Alex was going to pick up every stray they came across on the way home. And then he remembered how many friends she lost from the ranch.

"Kirby isn't going to be walking for awhile yet either." Alex said.

"And Alex has two bullet holes in _her._ We're all damaged."

"I'd really like to work for you, ma'am." Travers hesitated. "And do you think you could finish reading that book to me? I'd really like to know how it ends."

Littlejohn decided that being put on dock duty was the worst part of the entire War. He'd seen Grady off on the boat, met his pretty wife Kathy, and been hugged by countless nurses, all of them glad to be going home. Now all he did was walk his post day after day, and see other men going home.

He thought he heard somebody calling him, and decided it was his imagination.

"Hey, big man!" The guy he met on his patrol square yelled, "That woman's trying to get your attention. I swear she's gonna jump off the boat. She your sweetie, or something?"

Littlejohn turned to look at the boat, to see Alex running as fast as she could along the side, yelling at him. She was rapidly running out of boat.

"ALEX, STOP!" he yelled, waving his hands at her. "STOP!" If she fell overboard, she would drown. He saw Kirby coming behind her in a _wheelchair_ , shouting at her, and another guy on crutches behind _him._ What in the hell had happened to Kirby after he left? Had he lost his foot after all?

There was an officer smoking, almost on the stern, and as Alex shot past him, he reached and grabbed her.

"Whoa there, ma'am. You gonna dive off on the dock?" he asked her good naturedly.

Alex, intent on getting to Jimmy, was fixing to slug him until she realized that he only had one arm. And Kirby and Travers were both yelling at her to STOP!

"Oh!" she said, and started to cry. "Jimmy!" It was almost a wail.

Littlejohn, not knowing what to do, gave her a hearty wave and blew her a kiss, though it felt like somebody had ripped half his guts out. Alex acted like she caught it, and pressed both hands against her heart, and then waved and waved.

Kirby threw up a hand at Littlejohn and both of the other men waved at him too. It wasn't until he went off duty that he realized that the officer who had grabbed Alex was Ted Baer, and the man on crutches had been in the bed next to Saunders in the hospital.

"Al, please don't run off like that again!" Kirby panted. "I can't keep up with you!" He looked at the officer. "Thank you sir."

Baer did a double take when he recognized Kirby, and he turned back to Alex. "Are you alright, ma'am?" he still had a gentle hold on her arm. He had thought for half a second that she was actually going to dive right off the boat.

Alex still watching Jimmy, and waving, said, "I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"I'm sure your sweetheart will get to come home soon." Baer said kindly.

As Jimmy faded from sight, Alex said, "No, he's just a really good friend."

"That's twice you've saved my life." Kirby said to Baer, offering his hand. " I never got a chance to thank you for the first time. Alex is my wife."

"Thank you." Alex said, realizing that the man _did not_ like Kirby, and really didn't want to shake his hand. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry my husband behaved in a less than stellar manner."

"If you just said that I acted like a jackass, I did." Kirby flushed.

"That's why we make such a good team." Alex said, and winked at him. "Do you have family, Lieutenant Baer?"

" _Oh, no! She's going to try and take him home with us too!"_ Kirby thought.

"Yes ma'am. I have wife and a four year old little boy, and a daughter that I haven't met yet." He smiled. "My brother was wounded on Omaha Beach, and he's already rigged up one of our tractors for me to drive. I'll be just fine." He knew what she was asking him without her actually coming out and saying it, and appreciated her tact.

They were loading yet another ship. Littlejohn didn't know how much longer he could do this. Though, truthfully, most of the soldiers who left from this dock were wounded, they were still going home. He was so depressed. He had begun to think that this was his own personal hell and he was going to be here for the rest of his life. And now it was starting to rain. He grabbed his slicker out of the guard shack and shrugged it on.

As he passed the gangway, two soldiers were heading up it with a stretcher, and suddenly the one in the rear slipped and fell. Littlejohn shoved his rifle strap up on his shoulder and grabbed the stretcher _and_ the panicked, wounded man who was starting to slide off it, and somehow managed not to step on the guy who was rolling down the gangway.

"Go on!" he called to the man in the front. "Let's get this kid out of the rain!" If he got yelled at for leaving his post, well, so be it.

The Doctor at the top of the gangway, thanked him, consulted his chart and told them where to sit the stretcher down. And then Littlejohn realized that the backlog of wounded that was out on the decks was getting wet. As he jogged down the gangway, he gave a handup to the kid who had fallen. He looked like he had scraped himself up pretty badly.

Littlejohn picked up the phone in the guard shack. "I need some tarps and some ropes." He said, "These wounded and the nurses are getting wet. We can't get them loaded fast enough." He figured that his Sergeant would chew him out, but he didn't care.

He heard the Sergeant spit out some orders to someone else in his office. Then, "Littlejohn, right?"

"Yes Sergeant."

"I've got your tarps on the way. I'll be down to help too."

"Thank you." Littlejohn said. He saw another ambulance pull up, and the orderlies jumped out to start unloading.

"HOLD UP!" he yelled. "The whole deck is full of wounded that they can't get below. Ask the Doctor what to do!" he gestured.

The Doctor leaned over the railing and yelled something down that Littlejohn didn't catch, and one of the orderlies ran up the gangway, while the other one sprinted to the line of ambulances. More orderlies started piling out, and Littlejohn realized that they were trying to get the backlog of wounded out of the rain. He knew he couldn't help, he was just too big to navigate the narrow passageways of the ship with a stretcher.

His Sergeant pulled up in a truck with some other men, and Littlejohn handed his rifle off to one of them and went to work on his temporary shelter. None of the men seemed to know what to do, and he missed his squadmates, who would just have been in the right place where he needed them. He started yelling orders, and it wasn't until they had the first section of shelter up, that he realized that he'd been yelling at a _Lieutenant._ Oops.

Twenty minutes later, the shelter was complete, and it was pouring rain. The Lieutenant himself was nailing some strips on the gangway to ensure better footing. Littlejohn was completely soaked, he'd given his slicker to the Doctor. He helped run stretchers up the gangway until they had all the ambulances unloaded.

"Thank you, private." The Lieutenant said, offering him his hand to shake. "I really appreciate what you did today." He was every bit as wet as Littlejohn. "That was one of my men that you caught when the orderly fell down."

"Yes sir." Littlejohn said. "I need to get back to my post."

"What's your name?"

"Jim Littlejohn, sir."

"Travis Benton. And I'm proud to know you."

"Thank you sir." Littlejohn said, wondering what in the heck he was supposed to do. Then his Sergeant yelled at him and he went back to his post.

"Caje. Oh, god, I didn't know how bad you were hurt!" Hanley's voice broke, and he sat down in the chair next to the bed. He had thought the scout would be conscious and able to talk, but he was in really bad shape. "How did this happen?" Hanley asked himself, putting his face in his hands.

He didn't know how long he sat there before he heard Captain Jampel's voice. "Lieutenant Hanley, are you aware that you're AWOL?"

"Yes sir." Hanley said, swiping at his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir." He tried to get up, and then collapsed.

When he came to, he was in bed with an IV in his arm and his hands were tied down. A nurse was scribbling on a chart, and she looked at him. "Want some water?" she asked.

His throat was so dry he could only nod, and she gave him a few sips.

"Did I - " he stopped, confused, "Did I get shot again?"

"Lieutenant, you are an idiot."

"Yes ma'am." Hanley said. He had learned early on that the wisest course of action with anyone who dispensed your pain medication was to agree with everything they said. And then he remembered, the War was over. Not that it mattered. He was still losing men left and right.

"You're dehydrated and exhausted. You passed out. And you ripped your IV out three times before they let me tie you down."

"Did Caje die?" his voice cracked, and to his horror, he started to cry.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you're asking about." She looked at him worriedly.

"Paul Lemay. He was stabbed. I came to see him and -"

"I don't know but I'll find out for you." The sympathy in her eyes was real this time and she patted him on the shoulder as she left.

Several minutes later the Doctor came in and picked up his chart. "I sent Private Lemay home." He said.

"To die?" Hanley asked.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Oh, God." Hanley said, not even trying to hide his tears anymore.

"Lieutenant, do you hold yourself responsible for all the men who died in this War?"

"I've lost two men and had another crippled since VE Day."

The Doctor looked up from his chart. "I've lost fifteen."

"Oh, God! I'm sorry!" Hanley said. "I wasn't blaming you! I wasn't -" he choked.

"You need to go home son." The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder, and left.

"Don't you want to go back and finish law school?" Captain Jampel asked from the door.

"No sir. I don't want to go home." Hanley struggled to sit up, and Jampel gestured for him to stop.

"You're not going to go very far in the Army."

"Yes sir." Hanley said quietly. It really didn't pay to anger a General with Taggart's resources and power. But he didn't know what he could have done. He had thought that Sally was playing him for a fool. But what if she had loved _him,_ and not Colonel Jackson? That _couldn't_ have been what she had wanted to tell him when he had shoved her in an ambulance and closed the door. He'd had to get away from her before he told her how much he loved her. Before he made a damn fool of himself and threw away everything.

Jampel, mistaking Hanley's distress, said, "Lemay is one tough son of a bitch. I doubt he's going to die. According to Dawkins, his grandmother is some kind of folk doctor who can cure anything." He sighed. "We court martialed Franks this morning." At Hanley's confused look, "He's responsible for Caje getting hurt. I can't believe that Hall even brought him back, but he said they needed him to carry the stretcher." And then he tried to smile. "And Beckley just married Lieutenant Palmer a few minutes ago. That woman said she would shoot me if I tried to stop them. She thought that it was Beckley that got hurt when they brought in Caje." He actually laughed. The horrified expression on Hanley's face made him laugh again. "She's a fine woman. Her first husband was in my command too. He died the day after Omaha in an ambush. They would have stopped in to see you but they had to run to catch the boat home. I sent Hall too."

"I'm glad they're going home." Hanley managed.

"You need to go too."

"No sir. I want to stay." Hanley said firmly. There was nothing for him back in the States. There might not be anything left for him in the Army either, but he had no choice.

One of the wounded clutched his leg as he moved by, and Littlejohn bent down. He was used to them asking him things. Most of them seemed to assume that since he was the largest man there, that he was in charge. Usually they just wanted some water. Occasionally some pain medication. One of them had been too embarrassed to ask a nurse for a bedpan.

"Gabriel?" the kid tugged on his pants leg again. "Gabriel, are we going to heaven?"

"I ain't no angel, kid." Littlejohn tucked the blanket more securely around him. The air was a little cool this morning. "You're goin' home."

"Don't have no home!" the kid burst out. "She sent me a Dear John letter cuz I got shot!"

"Hey! Just take it easy!" Littlejohn put his hand on the kid's shoulder and looked frantically for a nurse.

"Young man, are you causing trouble?" The nurse smiled at Jimmy before she bent down over the wounded man, who had dissolved into sniffles and tears. She gestured to Littlejohn to move on, and he went back to running stretchers up and down the gangway.

Someone grabbed his leg again, and Littlejohn started to gently disengage himself without looking down. _He could not go thru that again._

"Littlejohn." It was just a whisper with _that_ accent.

"Caje!" he bent down. "Buddy, what happened to you?" he grabbed the hand that Caje was trying to hold out to him, noting the blood stained bandage on the scout's chest.

Caje, tears pouring, started babbling in French, trying to squeeze Littlejohn's hand, and the giant was horrified at how weak he was.

"Hey buddy. You got to speak English, ok?" Littlejohn thought he was going to be sick. How could Caje have been hurt this badly? The War was over.

Caje just kept on talking, looking at Littlejohn, wanting him to do _something._

"I saw Alex and Kirby." Littlejohn said suddenly. "I think it was a week ago. Maybe two?" he was confused. "And Ted Baer? Remember him? He's an _officer!"_ he didn't tell Caje the man had lost his arm.

"Private! We've got to get these men loaded!" Someone barked at Littlejohn.

"Yes sir." The giant tried to put Caje's hand down but the scout started sobbing, and he just couldn't leave him.

"Private! NOW!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the nurse whack the Sergeant with her clipboard. "Shut up and get off this boat." She said. Littlejohn thought _she_ was the one he'd picked up and carried to the guard shack after she'd fallen on the uneven footing on the dock and torn up her hands and knees. Or maybe she was the one who had helped him sew the tarps together when they were both off duty. The Sergeant must have looked at her wrong, because she whacked him again, and some of the wounded started clapping.

"Sergeant! We will discuss whatever you've done to make this lady so angry later!" Lieutenant Benton barked out. "Get down there and help load these men!"

"Yes sir." The Sergeant said, giving Littlejohn a look that he knew meant trouble later on. He had gone thru three or four Sergeants since he'd been assigned to dock duty, they kept sending them home or re-assigning them.

"Caje, I got to go." Littlejohn said, trying to get up. "I'm sorry, but we've got to get all these wounded loaded so the next ship can dock."

The nurse came back, jabbed a needle in Caje's arm, and gently wiped the tears from his face. She said something to him in French, and his eyes closed. "Jimmy, are you alright?"

"Yes ma'am." Jimmy said, offering her a hand up.

"He said thank you for being his friend." She looked at him worriedly. "If that Sergeant tries to give you any trouble -"

"If that Sergeant makes one more mistake today, I'll throw him in the brig." Lieutenant Benton said, and gestured Littlejohn in front of him down the gangway.

They finished loading the wounded, and Littlejohn went back to walking his post as the ship pulled away. It wasn't an hour later when another one docked and they started loading it.

"Hey Littlejohn!" One of the orderlies yelled. "Lieutenant Benton wants you in the guardshack ."

"Thanks." Littlejohn said, as he jogged that way. "Sir, you wanted me?" he asked as he stepped inside.

"Grab your gear, Jim. You've gotta hustle."

 _They were reassigning him again!_ "Yes sir." Littlejohn said glumly.

"You're goin' home, sweetie." He hadn't even noticed the nurse in the corner, and she grinned at him. She _was_ the one with the clipboard.

"Ma'am?" he asked, confused, looking from her to the Lieutenant.

"I've tried to get you on the last three ships." Lieutenant Benton said, standing up, and offering him his hand. "And you really do need to hurry."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you." Litttlejohn said, shaking his hand. The nurse hugged him and then he took off running. He was going _home._ To Mavey and all his family, and Mama's fried chicken. _He was going home!_


End file.
